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I CRAWLED IN BED BEFORE two o’clock. After I figured out Gertie and Ida Belle had been following me, I listened to their excuses. They ranged from genuine concern to a load of crap. In short, they were just plain bored.
There wasn’t a lot to do in Sinful. It was an endearing Louisiana town, a cut-from-the-movies kind of place with potted plants along the streets and small gardens in shaded backyards. Boxwoods and manicured lawns were part of the charm but a visitor couldn’t get the gist of the community until they stepped inside the heart of Sinful and opened themselves up to the warmth.
I thought about that for a moment. It had been easier than expected to settle into the humdrum of small town living. The drama was compelling enough to keep things interesting but the friendships were what mattered.
Like many small towns, there was an “us against them” mentality. I really liked that train of thought considering I was embraced by the biggest us-faction in town. The Sinful Ladies Society, founded by Ida Belle and Gertie made me feel welcome. As a former active CIA agent, I related to the group’s mentality.
In my experience, there were always two sides of the street. Sinful was no different. On Sundays, the division was found in church choices—Catholics and Baptists. There were other denominations around but the ‘them against us’ was most obvious in the two churches closest to Francine’s Cafe, known for the best pudding in town.
Depending on who was working, the café was also recognized for hot gossip and cold coffee. When my good friend Ally was on the clock, she corrected the latter.
My phone alarm buzzed, interrupting my thoughts in observance of a very important reminder. Time to place the first call to Agent Pretty.
****
“YOU’D BETTER HAVE A good excuse, Redding. We landed after midnight and I’m hours away from my three-week vacation.”
“No mercy here.” I sighed. “It’s the blonde one. She’s not answering her phone.”
“I shouldn’t have answered mine. Why do you need to speak to her at this hour?”
Ignoring his question, I said, “I’ve tried several times.”
“Then get over there.”
“Over there would be five minutes and fifty-two seconds across the county line.”
“That’s right. I forgot that a five minute trek in Louisiana is equivalent to rush hour in DC.”
“Agent Pretty forwarded her address after our meeting so I called Deputy LeBlanc to find out where Hot Skillet Road is located. Carter mentioned a Wasteland Holiday Wonderland party which brings me to the reason for my call.”
“Before you ask, she doesn’t drink. And I can’t see her picking up a stranger.”
I could but didn’t mention the fact.
“Okay then.” I stalled for kicks. Agent Pretty wasn’t in any real danger. She’d been in town for less than six hours. “Before we say our goodbyes, I’d like to mention that she was left behind to keep tabs on me not vice-versa.” I smiled at the phone. “I can’t babysit.”
“You’ve had enough practice with your sleepless snipers. Agent Nichols shouldn’t be much of a challenge.”
“Carter suggested that I wait until morning. It’s still foggy here and—”
“Redding, get over there now! Agent Nichols has an exemplary record. If you called and she didn’t pick up, there’s a problem.”
“I guess you’re right. She could’ve tripped while sleepwalking to the closest mirror. I do hope she’s okay.”
“Call me back with a report.”
“But you’re on vacation.”
“Apparently, there’s no rest for the weary or those who have the misfortune of dealing with you.”